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Chapter 4 - Psychiatric Help (G
Darkness is surprisingly common in the masses. Though it may not be as serious in them as it is with those who give in completely to its power, a little bit of darkness can be found in anyone you meet. Xavier, for example, had been consumed by it entirely, and eventually fought back hard enough to seek assistance. Unfortunately, the ones he looked to for help were not merely under the control of darkness, but instead had taken control of darkness itself. Xavier pushed on the door with all of his strength (which, as previously established, isn’t saying much), but it wouldn’t budge. His inability to complete a task as simple as opening a door caused anger to flush to his face, and he let loose a flurry of punches on it. As you may expect, however, punching steel with your bare fists isn’t very effective. Fueled by blind rage, the bandit let out his squeaky war cry and bashed his head into the door, and immediately afterward fell on his back. The door proceeded to slightly open towards him. Xavier stood up, read the “Pull” sign on the door, punched it again, cried for another minute, and then walked inside. The storage room was so dark that Xavier had to squint his eyes to even get a general idea of his surroundings. The room was completely empty, aside from a few boxes and a metal staircase leading to a higher level. As he made his way up the steps, he contemplated how furious he had just become. Upon entering another room atop the second floor, Xavier’s final thought was that this mental readjustment would be the best thing to ever happen to him. All of a sudden, the door slammed shut behind him. Terrified, Xavier whipped around, but there was no one to be seen. As soon as he turned, scurrying noises could be heard from his original direction. “What’s that?” he asked, shaking. “Who goes there?” He was able to make out what appeared to be a small booth with two silhouettes sitting behind it. “Come closer, Xavier,” whispered one of the shadow-cloaked figures. "Please, Xavier,” whispered the other. “We’re only here to help.” Hesitantly, the bandit walked toward the voices. As soon as he was within ten feet of them, a light blinked on above their heads. Xavier let out a horrified shriek, for what he saw was much worse than any murderer or criminal--sitting there, ready to give him psychiatric help was none other than Yoshi and Chubba. “Xavier… don’t try to escape…” whimpered another voice. Xavier followed the direction of the voice until he saw a tiny, beaten cloud in the corner--Aaron. “Just do what they say, and you might… survive…” With those last words, Aaron let out his final breath. Until the next one, one second later. As well as the one after that. Basically, he just fell asleep. Scared out of his wits, Xavier sat down in front of the poorly built wooden stand where the two psychopaths gestured. “Welcome, Xaviree,” Yoshi began, “to our 679 mental restoration plan.” “Actually,” Xavier retorted, trying to act brave, “it’s Xavier.” “AHA!” the dinosaur screamed in response. “That’s the first step in our program. You get a new name to symbolize the new you. Would you care to initiate the second step, Brother Chubba?” “Why certainly, Brother Yoshi,” Chubba said, cracking his knuckles. “W-what’s the second step?” “Physical violence.” With that statement, Chubba lept through the stand at Xavier, the bandit rolling to the side just in time. “HOW IS THIS SUPPOSED TO HELP RESTORE MY SANITY?” Xavier screamed. Chubba used his big, meaty ogre hand to pin his victim against the wall, and slapped him back and forth relentlessly. “DON’T QUESTION OUR PROGRAM! YOU NEVER QUESTION OUR PROGRAM!” Seventy slaps later, the clubba threw Xavier back on the ground in front of the booth and returned to his seat. “Time for step three!” said Yoshi. “Tell us about any traumatic experiences you’ve been through lately and how you’re feeling.” “Wait, really?” Xavier asked, hope returning to his face. “Haha, nope! We’re totally gonna hurt you more,” laughed Chubba, and prepared to pounce at the bandit again. “I JUST WANTED TO ERADICATE MY PSYCHOPATHIC TENDENCIES, BUT ALL YOU’RE DOING IS MAKING ME WANT TO KILL YOU EVEN MORE!” Xavier shouted, and readied himself for the blow. Except, for some reason, the blow never came. “Hold on,” Chubba said, sitting back down. “You’re trying to give up on killing me?” “Uh… yeah?” Xavier said, confused by his hurt expression. “You really do have a problem, then. Answer me this, Xavier: when the Clubhouse lost one of its members, what did we do?” “Didn’t you take in a new member and immediately lose the cham-” “Okay, bad example. The point is, you can’t give up on something just because it seems hopeless. You need to keep at it, and one day you might just be able to stick it to the man, or whatever I am, for that matter.” “...Wow! You know what? You’re right!” said Xavier, energized. “I’m not going to give up, and one day I will murder you! Thanks for believing in me!” "To be honest, I’m pretty sure he just wants to see you get injured more,” said Yoshi, but Xavier had already ran off towards the door. Unfortunately, the door was locked, and he slammed into it with full force. “Oh, we’re not done here,” Chubba said. “Not even close.” “In fact, we’ve still got 675 steps to go,” Yoshi chimed in. Xavier let out a shriek of terror as step four began.